Page 2 of Hard as Wood

Clara squints at me, dropping her pillow and stepping closer. She examines me slowly before her eyes widen, and she snaps her attention to the shelves behind me. She runs to the empty spot in the middle before turning to me. “Pineo? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me.” I place my hand on my chest, stepping toward her—my drive to get closer overtaking the shakiness of my legs.

“How is this possible?” Her eyes dart to every inch of me.

I don’t waste a second, removing the space between us and wrapping her into my arms. Her arms connect around my neck, and my hands scoop under her, lifting her from the ground and spinning her softly. Her heart hammers against my chest. “Am I dreaming? What’s going on?” She’s trying to put the pieces together when I couldn’t care less. All I care about is that she’s in my arms, and I can finally communicate with her.

She pushes away and makes herself heavier as an indication to place her back on the floor. I do, but my face droops that she already needs her space. Her hands remain on my chest, feeling up my green vest. “Your clothes, they grew too.” Her hands travel to my neck and to my jawline. “But you’re still made of wood. You’re a wooden person. How is this possible?”

I wrap my fingers around her wrists, staring into her brown eyes, catching my reflection. I look the same: wooden features, green eyes, and wavy blonde horsehair adhered to my head, but I’m much bigger, towering over my Clara. I study her face. She wants answers, and she’s looking to me to give them to her. I clear my throat. “Maybe it was your wish last night. You wished on a star to make me real,” I offer.

Clara nods, brightness filling her expression. “Yes, I did wish on a star. It’s just like the storybooks.” She smiles. “And you’re my prince charming come to life.”

My wooden heart elates at her words. “You’ve always been my princess.” An urge takes over me, something natural but foreign. I lean in, wanting her mouth against mine. She startles at first, but her lips part, and she rises on her tip-toes, closing the distance between us and bringing her soft lips to my wooden ones. Electricity zips through my body, and my knees grow weak. I press in deep, and her tongue reaches into my mouth. I open wide, letting her explore, as I match her languid movements. A soft moan escapes her as she holds onto me tightly, her body rubbing against my front.

She pulls back, her eyes wide as if a thought just popped into her mind. “Did you watch me all those nights when…you know?”

I study her, not sure what she means.

Her cheeks redden, and her eyes dart nervously. “When I…touched myself, down there.” She motions with her eyes. “And I would cry out in pleasure. Did you watch?”

My heart beats thunderously. I always watched Clara, no matter what she did, but my favorite time of all was when she touched herself between her legs. She would glue her eyes to me, not breaking her gaze even as her body convulsed under her touch. I didn’t know exactly what was happening, but it stirred something in me. She never touched herself like that when anyone else was home. She always closed the blinds and double-checked to ensure no one was watching her. Obviously, this was a private act she didn’t want anyone to see. I don’t want to scare her away. “No,” I lie, immediately regretting my choice.

Something like disappointment flashes across her face. I don’t have time to ponder it because my body grabs my attention. My plaid pants tent, growing tighter until something bursts through the seam.

Clara gasps, looking down at the strange wooden rod protruding through my pants. “Is that your…?”

I look back and forth between her and my strange body part. “I think it’s my penis,” I say. I’ve never had a penis before, but I guess now that I’m a human, I do. New information rushes through my brain. No one has ever toldme the purpose of this body part, but some new instinct rests inside of me. “Do they usually grow when you tell a lie?” Maybe I don’t know everything about my penis.

She giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. “Did you just lie?” My long penis separates us now. I hate the thing. Why is it creating distance between my sweet Clara? It also throbs and makes my body feel strange.

I nod. “Yes. I’m sorry. I said I haven’t watched you touch yourself, but I always watch you. It’s one of my favorite things you do.”

Her smile fades, and her lips part. I must have upset her. Now I hate my penis and my mouth. Maybe I’m not cut out for my new body.

“Why did you lie to me?” Her voice is heavy and shaky.

“I didn’t want to upset you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have watched you all these years.”

“Don’t say that.” She moves around my penis and places her hand on my chest. My body ignites under her touch, and my penis twitches. Stupid penis.

“I want you to watch me.” She stands on her tip-toes and nuzzles into the crook of my neck. My shoulders sag at her heavy breath on my wooden skin, and my penis aches even more. Something drips from the tip. My eyes widened as I look at the amber-colored gel from afar. Great, now my penis is also disgusting.

Clara must notice my sudden shock from the stiffness of my body. Her eyes follow my gaze, and she leaves my side, stepping in front of my very long wooden member. She swipes her finger in the substance, bringing it to her lips. The small contact from her finger elicits a rush of pleasure from the base of my spine. Okay, maybe my penis isn’t so bad.

Her eyes grow wide in delight. “It tastes like maple syrup.” She licks her finger again as if to get off every last drop. I have half a mind to let her know that the heavy feeling in my wooden testicles might indicate there’s a lot more where that came from.

Oh yeah. I guess I have testicles now. That’s new. I don’t know what they do or how they work, but I feel it won’t be too hard to find out. I thank the Maker for the sprinkles of knowledge about my new body encoded in my wooden brain. I’m confused about a lot of things, but I'm grateful I at least know some things about my genitals.

“I’ve heard girls at the market talk about their husbands’ cum and say it tastes horrible. Yours doesn’t taste bad at all. It’s delicious.” Clara lowers to her knees, eye level with my rod.

I only started breathing a few minutes ago but suddenly forget how to do it. “What are you doing?” I ask. I’d let Clara do whatever she deems fit. If she wanted to chopme up into a million tiny toothpicks, I wouldn’t resist. Her whim is my fancy. I only ask now as I have a creeping suspicion she’s about to put her mouth on me, and I want to visualize it even for just a second so I don’t succumb to the bubbling pressure building in my abdomen. My penis feels dangerous.

“I want to make you feel good,” she purrs before opening her mouth and wrapping her full lips over my head.

Her mouth is on my penis. Her mouth is on my penis.

She swallows me, taking me in until I hit the back of her throat, and she gags.

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